On the Side of Angels
by Loki Holmes
Summary: Sherlock died. She jumped off the building and maid physical contact with the ground. They mourned her. He mourned her for two years. So why is it that out of the blue she turns up when she is supposed to be dead. Wing-Lock and Femlock,
1. The Dead Detective

She was dead. It had to happen. She didn't have time to tell Molly to enact their plan. She had to jump. It was the only way to save Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and John. John. He would be devastated. She had to make sure that that didn't happen. She had to make John hate her. Despise her. Think that she had lied to him about everything. She fished her phone out of her pocket and called John.

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><p>"Sherlock. Sherlock. You must wake up Sherlock."<p>

Sherlock didn't recognize the voice. It sounded like a youthful woman. But there was something else there that Sherlock couldn't quite place. Se slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Everything was wight. Oh heck. A hospital. Maybe she had survived the fall. Oh that wouldn't be good for her, or anyone. She wondered how he had survived.

"No Miss. Holmes. You are very regrettably dead. But don't worry. The Big Guy said to give you a second chance at life."

Sherlock looked at the woman. She was clothed in all white and golden curls of hair. She had brown eyes and a friendly smile. "The big guy?"

"You know. The Great I Am. Lord of All. Creator of, well everything?" Sherlock shook her head. "The guy you hear about in Sunday School?"

"Oh. Oh! Wait. I'm in heaven?

"No. Well not yet. Your in more of a limbo. Its actually kind of an honor. He is going to give you a second chance."

"Well um, then send me back so I can do what I was going to do if I hadn't, died." Being that she was alive, saying that tasted weird in her mouth.

"Well, actually there is a catch. He wants you yo do something for him. Continue using your gifts to catch criminals."

"Okay. Why?"

"Because. You gave your life for your friend, even when they might have given up on you, with no chance of survival. And He thinks that should be rewarded for such a sacrifice." The angel slowly turned Sherlock and placed both of her hands on her back. "Before the fall, you were a great woman, Now, you are a to be a good one." Sherlock suddenly felt as if something heavy was put on her back. She looked over her shoulders and saw a pair of silver wings. As she bent them she saw the outside was as black as her coat had been.

"Holy,..." She stopped mid sentence as she was given a look from the angel. "He. Um, sorry. So, uh. Am I an angel now? Or what?

"Yes and no. You are still a mortal, but you have the ability now to look past someones exterior and see who they actually are. So that should help when seeing if someone is guilty. Plus you can fly."

In the situation Sherlock was in, she decided it was better not to point out how sappy that sounded. "Well I'm sure this will all be really helpful in the future. But wont the feathers be kind of a give away that I'm not completely human?"

"First of all, you are completely human. Secondly, when you aren't using your wings there is a sort of perception filter, where they fold up and look like a kind of coat. We took the liberty of making it look like the coat that you seem to prefer. If you like we can change it for you?"

"No. This will be great. Thank you." Sherlock folded her wings and saw her coat. She couldn't help but feel the "coat" that she had on. It felt exagtly like her coat. She was even able to turn up the collar. She felt like her old self. Even though it hadn't been more then a couple hours at the most.

"Oh and before I forget. You will receive some gifts from us of the supernatural kind. When we see the time is right, you will receive it. Now I believe it is time for you to return to, shall we call it, 'The Land of the Living.'"

Suddenly she felt so relaxed she felt slightly drowse, which was quit unusual. She looked up at the angel. She was sailing really creepily. Sherlock felt her legs give out as she slipped to the floor.

"Sleep well Sherlock and God speed."


	2. Heartbreak

Sherlock sat straight up. Well, tried to sit up but she hit her head on something wooden. She looked around and saw nothing. Everything was dark. She moved her hands and felt something plush. Now why in the heck would she be in something plush. Suddenly it hit her she was dead, so reasonably she would be, in a coffin. A coffin! A bloody, coffin! Leave it to them to screw her over. She was starting to worry about the whole CO2 build up.

After a few minutes it was getting kind of hard to breath. All she wanted was a fresh breath of air. She suddenly felt her whole body being lifted. After a few seconds she saw a blindingly bright light and then she was on the soft green grass. After she had caught her breath, she stood up and looked around. She had been correct in assuming she had been in a coffin. And the name on the tomb stone was a dead give away. She felt a cold breeze. She then noticed her wings were in full view of everyone. She would have liked to admire them more, but she head someone coming. She went over to hide behind a nearby tree, all the while turning her wings into her coat. She waited for a minuet before she heard a familiar voice. John. And, Mrs. Hudson?

"There's all her stuff. All the Science equipment, I left it all in boxes, I don't know where all of its going. I thought I would take it to a school or something. Would you?" Sherlock chuckled slightly. _'Oh let the little buggers have it all.'_

"No. I can't go back to the flat. Not at the moment." John paused for a moment. "I'm angry."

"It's alright John. There's nothing unusual in that. That's how he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table, and the noise. Firing guns at half past one in the morning. Bloody specimen's in my fridge. Imagine, keeping bodys where there's food is supposed to be kept."

_'Well where else was I supposed to put it.'_

John answered a quiet yes as Mrs. Hudson continued her rant. "And all the fighting. Drove me up a wall!"

"No Mrs. Hudson. I'm," John paused to compose himself. "I'm not angry about those things."

"No, umm... of course. I'll . . .I'll just . . . umm, give you some privacy." Mrs. Hudson walked away towards the cab mumbling. It hurt Sherlock to see two of the most important people in her life so distraught about something she had done. John moved and put his hand on the tombstone. Sherlock moved closer to hear what John was saying.

"Um. Hm. You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times that I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best woman and the most human... human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so... there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this..."

It didn't register for her until John had finished that tears were running down her face. She so badly wanted to call out to him. To say she was alive and that they could destroy Moriarty's web, together, like they did everything. But something was stopping her. It might have been the lingering words that the woman had said.

She had to face this alone. _'My gosh. Why in the heck is that so daunting.' _She slid down the tree and wrapped her arms around herself. _'Can't do this. Not alone. I need. I need,...' _She couldn't do it. She wouldn't ask. Couldn't ask. But she had to. She pulled out her phone. _'Wait. When did that get there. No matter.' _She quickly dialed the number and waited for the person to pick up.

"Who is this? And how did you get this number?"

"Who do you think? Now this is hard enough so just listen. I need your help brother dear."...

Sherlock and Mycroft both ironed out the details about what Sherlock would be doing and where she would be going for the foreseeable future. After that she got a makeover. They cut her hair to about shoulder length. She then went and got some brown contact for her eyes and some obstructive glasses. As a finishing touch they gave her some short bangs that fell just below her eyebrows and died her hair brown. She also wore a sweatshirt and jeans.

Sherlock walked over to the full mirror and looked at herself. She thought she looked absolutely ridiculous but the look served its purpose. She really couldn't recognize herself. Well mostly. "Well Mycroft. It seems your people are good for more then spying on people. Now do you have the plane ticket I need?"

"Of course I do. Now I have set up an account for you where you can withdraw money from anywhere in the world that you may happen to be. We have also procured a cell phone that you can use. Your flight leaves in an hour. Well, till you need me next," He looked down at the passport that he had procured for her. "Emily Johnson." Sherlock, Emily, gave a disgusted look about the name.

"Emily Johnson? Couldn't you think up a better name for me to use?" Mycroft just glared at her.

"Just get in the car."


	3. Oh to fly

**Hey you lucky readers. Its been snowing so I've had a lot of time to you all get a new update. I hope its not to late. I've been getting better, and together, with lots of amazing readers like yourself, we can get me posting more often. So are we all together? (Gives hopeful look.)**

**(Everyone reading takes a generous step back and gives worried looks)**

**So that's a no then, right? Okay then. Read on.**

**Loki Holmes**

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><p>Sherlock went around the world and dismantling Moriarty's web from one corrupt politician, to some poor bloke who just wanted to provide for his family. With all the filth and with how deep Sherlock had to go over the past two awful years, she was shocked that there was any of her old self left.<p>

She had only used her wings three times over the time she was away. The first was the second week she had been away from London. She had been in the woods when some of Moriarty's men came after her. They had chased her to a cliff and as they struggled they fell off. The men hit the ground with a sickening crack as Sherlock extended her wings and flew out of the ravine.

The second was when she had visited a small village in the heart of Africa. Their she found where Moriarty's men were running a cocaine lab where the people had been forced into slave labor. She had helped the people to get ride of the men. She had stayed for a few more days when a sickness started around the village. This as when she received her first "gift." She had been given the power to heal the people there and help cleanse the village of the disease. After that she had left. Being that there was no planes leaving the village and she really didn't fancy walking all the way out of the jungle, she found a hill that was high enough and she jumped. She had found that she really couldn't fly without jumping of something high. It so far really hadn't been a problem so she didn't think much more on the problem.

The third time was in the Himalayas where she came across a breakaway sect of Buddhist Warrior monks. She new one of Moriarty's men was hiding out and with her skills she soon discovered who it was. Though, it really didn't take much deducing. A blond female was not that hard to figure out. As she was leaving the Himalayas she saw the sweeping landscapes and the long drops off the edge. She really didn't know why but she felt this need to jump. She had already jumped once in her life off something that could kill her if she weren't able to stop. She looked around to make sure no one was around and when she was sure she jumped. She felt the air rushing around her as she felt her wings instinctively unfold. She was suddenly stopped by her wings.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked around as she started to fly. She loved the sensation as she did. She really didn't enjoy anything anymore, but with flying she was hardly ever able to do that. She soared up over the clouds feeling the moisture on her face. She kept going when she remember about her plan. She decided to call Mycroft and tell him she had found a different way to her next destination. She really just wanted to feel the wind and breath the thin oxygen. She had found that she had more of a tolerance for the lack of air when she was flying at such a high altitude.

_'Oh to be able to fly.' _


	4. Mary?

_**Hi. So um. I sorry. I would like to beg you all for forgiveness. I was out of town for 10 days and then real life got in my way and I was just having a whole lot of problems so I haven't been able to update. So I apologize a thousand times over for the delay. **_

_**I want to thank everyone who has given me a review. You don't know how good it makes me feel when you give me reviews. And to not leave anyone out I also love all of you who have favorited and fallowed this story. Your all amazing and your support has made me just love to continue for you all so here is your new chapter and I hope you enjoy it. For those of you who are reading my other stories, I am just about threw with another chapter for A study in Avengers. I am working on the chapters for the other stories. So ya. I love you all and thank you for staying with me.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. I only do this for your entertainment.**_

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><p>It had been two years since he had seen Sherlock jump and John thought he had made some good progress from just sitting around in his flat staring at walls. It was in part due to Mary. Wonderful, beautiful Marry. Marry had helped him so much. She had practically held his hand and led him out of his depression.<p>

John looked down at his watch and decided that it was time to get up. He was dreading the day and looking foreword to it. Marry had insisted that they go to, her, grave site. She said that it would help with healing. John had already been to the grave and he really didn't feel any healing. Well technically, he actually hadn't made it all the way to the grave, but John had made it quite close. But this time he felt a little better that Marry would be coming along. That woman deserved a freaking metal for all she had done for him.

_**Sherlock!**_

She had to get out of the base and she needed to hurry. She really didn't prefer another torture session in a different country. But Russia was always a pain. Literally. She had reached the gate when her escape was discovered. All she needed was to get to that cliff she had spotted earlier when she arrived earlier that week. She had finally reached the forest when she heard dogs. This may or may not have encouraged her to move a little faster. When she had first found the cliff it didn't take her this long. Was she, lost. No she couldn't be. It would destroy her escape. She looked up and heard a helicopter.

_'Why in the heck would they have a blasted helicopter.' _She actually felt a little proud that she had stirred up so much trouble. "He told us to find her and bring her back alive." She just about stopped at this. Did she just hear what they were saying? No. It couldn't be that. If it was, this was a heck of a time to spring this gift on her. "Well I can't help it if the dogs maim her a bit. They are stupid animals." Yep. Another freaking gift. She suddenly felt really tired and just wanted to stop. She new she would be able to escape from that joke of a prison but she didn't feel in the mood to be tortured. Again.

She suddenly made it into a clearing when she fell. Well tipped was a more aped description. She put her hands up in defeat. _'What the heck did I trip on?' _ She was glade though, that at least she wasn't going to be mauled by dogs. Again. She curled in on herself as she tried to catch her breath.

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><p>Four hours. Four long and painful hours. That's how long Mycroft had let them beat her. She would have killed him if she wasn't in such a hurry to find John. She was having a hard time sitting in the cab though. Her back felt like it was on fire, and her broken ribs weren't doing her any favors. She asked the cabbie to go a little faster. They soon arrived at the restaurant where John and this "Marry" were having their dinner.<p>

Sherlock walked into the room and looked around the restaurant. She heard a beep, and deduced that it was a text for the man who had taken her coat. She saw that he was stressed about something and went for it, mumbling something about his wife having the first contractions. She walked further into the restaurant and soon spotted John.

_'Dear heavens. He dose look old. That mustache is going to have to go.'_ She smiled slightly but than it fell from her face. How was she going to approach him. She looked around and saw that the waiters were waring about the same suites as her. She then saw a man take off some big glasses as her side bangs fell into her face.

A plan quickly formed in her mind. She walked up to a man sitting at the closest table and spilled some wine on his tie. After muttering some apology and saying that she would go and get it cleaned as she slipped it from his neck. As she tied it around her neck she saw the man with the glasses place them on his menu. People were making this all to easy. She picked up the menu and with it took the man's glasses and slipped them on. They look absolutely atrocious and they were quite large and they obscured her face perfectly. She then looked around for the finishing touch for her disguise. That's when she saw a woman place some lipstick in a small hand bag. _'Perfect.'_

"Madam. Might I interest you in this menu. It is completely the same." She grabbed the woman's lipstick right from her bag by sliding the other menu to her right while picking up the original menu and using it to disguise her taking the lipstick. She quickly applied the lipstick and then looked at the color._ 'Midnight Red?'_ She felt as if she was using a crayola marker instead of actual lipstick. _'The things people will do to market a project.' _She immediately deleted the the past few seconds from her mind. It was no use having such trivial things clutter up her head. _'I have Mycroft for such things.' _She then made her way over to John and decided to just improv things.

"Can I 'elp you with anything, sir?" She noticed that he didn't look up. _"Has he learned nothing from that cabbie incident.' _She decided it was best not to role her eyes. He was bound to look up soon. Her John was not so oblivious. Well most of the time.

"Hi, yeah. I'm looking for a bottle of champagne – a good one." She leaned a little closer to John to pretend she was looking at the menu.

"Mmm! Well, these are all excellent vintages."

"Er, it's not really my area. What do you suggest?" She remembered what Mycroft had said about the wine's here.

"Well, you cannot possibly go wrong, but, erm, if you'd like my personal recommendation..." She was hoping he would look up at her but he still wasn't as he mumbled something she assumed was an okay to go ahead. "...this last one on the list is a favorite of mine." She saw that John was still being oblivious so she decided to make it a little more obvious. "It is – you might, in fact, say – like a face from ze past." She took off her glasses and looked down at him. _'Just look up!'_

"Great. I'll have that one, please." She just had to get him to look up and then it would be good. She new his expression would be worth it.

"It is familiar, but, er, with the quality of _surprise!_" She used her real voice at the end hoping that he would look up. He didn't.

"Well, er, surprise me." She couldn't believe him.

"Endeavoring to do so, sir." She used her real voice and then ripped the menu from his hand and went straight into the kitchen. She glared at everyone she passed as she went to the wine cabinet. She looked around and then suddenly stopped. What was she doing. Why didn't she just wait until he returned to his flat and talk to him then. She decided that it was better this way. And she would get a good laugh out of it. She hoped. But when it all came out she had to be honest with John. Completely and utterly honest. About why she left and everything.

She grabbed the bottle of wine and headed back to John. Her John. She turned around just in time to meet the real wine expert. She gave him a smile the said 'Don't bug me.' She walked passed him and went straight out to deliver the wine. As she was approaching she noticed a women sitting across from John. She found that she was moving a little faster now. No one sat with him to eat but her. She just about stopped as a thought. An evil thought. Clawed its evil way into her head. _'Your jealous.' _She shook her head to try to shake the thought loose.

She was not jealous. Sherlock Holmes did not do jealous. She soon found herself at his table and she slipped into waiter mode. She was thinking only one thing as she spoke with John. Look up at me. She was getting quite annoyed and wasn't really prepared when he suddenly spun around and looked at her. She laugh awkwardly as she reached up her head a took of her glasses. She tried to smile but she couldn't. Everything started to happen in a blur. She was more focused on this "Mary." Whoever she is and just looked at John as he cherished her.

_ "Is he really still talking. I can't take him seriously when he has that dead caterpillar hanging over his lip.' _ What she said next she really couldn't be blamed for. Her curiosity got the best of her. And she wanted to relieve some of the tension with what she thought would do it. Apparently John didn't take the defusing to heart as soon she felt his hands around her neck as she was quickly pushed backwards and then they were on the ground. She felt the stitches on her back rip and let out a small groan of pain as people tried to pry John of her. _'I will never understand emotions.' _

_**Sherlock!**_

They both sat together outside a tea shop. John had sent Mary home so that he and Sherlock could talk privately. It was awkward at first because nether wanted to talk and Sherlock was sure that if she talked it would only come out as a groan of pain. So there they sat. Sipping at tea and people watching. Sherlock had spotted at least six men who were having an affair, and one couple that had left earlier were each having a separate affair with the same man.

"Sherlock I want you to explain. And if you don't start now, I will never speak to you again. Got it?" Sherlock sat forwards and set her cup on their table.

"Ugh. Um." And there was the groan. John gave her a funny look. She tried to say something else but just then she had leaned back into the chair and instead of 'John' it came out as a sharp painful gasp. She really needed John to help her with her back.

"Sherlock. Are you okay? You look more pail then normal?" She shook her head and tried to point towards her back but it hurt to much to move her arm. She grabbed a napkin and a pen and scribbled something on it then passed it to John. It read:

_Long story. _

_Need to get back to 221b. Can't talk. _

_My back is screwed over._

She gave him a pleading look. "Well you have some nerve. I am not helping someone who ruined my life, Sherlock." She looked down at her hands. John could hear that she was breathing shallowly. He gave her one last look and his fate was sealed. "Oh all rite. But this one last time Sherlock. You hear me? One last time. Then I am going back to my new flat, giving a ring to Mary and then I am getting married." She nodded her head as John helped her to sit up.

It didn't take them very long to arrive back at Backer street. John helped Sherlock up the stairs. He had Miss. Hudson bring him his medical bag that he had "Forgot" here when he left. He then went and retrieved some water to clean her back with. He walked into their old sitting room to find her stumbling with her shirt. He saw she had managed to take of her coat. Barely.

"Here. Let me help you." He walked forward and slide her shirt of her shoulders so that her could look at her back. Now since John had been a field medic for many years on the battle field he had seen many horrific things. This training helped him to not through up everything he had ever eaten in his life when when he saw the sorry stat of Sherlock's back.

"Ya. Its kind of awful. You should have seen it before Mycrots doctor treated it and stitched it." He grimaced at that part.

"Ya sorry about throwing you to the ground like that. I was just so mad." He got a rag wet and gently moved her hair out of the way.

"No. That's fine John. You have every reason to be mad at me for all the pain I put you through. I, never intended," John pushed the rag down on a particularly bad cut pulling a sharp gasp and his from Sherlock. He hadn't really meant to, but mostly he did.

"Well you did. And it will take a lot more then this for me to forgive you Sherlock." She sighed heavily. She let her head drop in sham as her hair made a curtain around her face so he couldn't see her face. He went back to cleaning her back.

"Please at least lat me explain. When I called you and told you I was a fake, I did that so that you would be more angry then sad at my leaving. And with how hard you are pressing that infernal rag of yours, it didn't work." He let off a little as he let what she said sink in. "I wanted to come back many times. To write to you, to call you. But I couldn't put you in danger like that. If Moriarty's web even suspected that you knew of my location, they would kill you to find out. I," She paused to think for a moment. If she said the wrong thing now, he would leave and never return to her, and if that happened she new she wouldn't know what to do.

"I couldn't stand to lose you. I would rather give you up and never see you again, then lose you forever and know it was because of my carelessness. I know it will take time for you to forgive me. I don't expect to get off that easily." She heard John laugh coldly at that.

"Your darn right. And if you think I will ever forgive you for the pain I have suffered, you are greatly mistaken, Sherlock." She let her head drop again. At that. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart because he new he wasn't the only one hurt but he couldn't let go. Not just yet. "But I do appreciate what you have said." With that the conversation ended until he had patched her up. John was about to speak when they heard a knock at the door.

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><p><em><strong>So just a side note. As you all are probably painfuly aware, I kind of suck at things like homophones, grammar and spelling at points. So to make this story better for your reading and the reading of others, if you see something wrong with anything, especially if their is a continuity error, please let me know and I will go back threw and correct the error so you all can have a better reading experience. Thank you all for your help and I hope you all really enjoyed the chapter and that you didn't find to much wrong.<br>**_


	5. Not the only one

**All righty then. Time to get back to writing. Oh better see where I left off. Don't want any continuity errors. (Open up last chapter.) Holly schwarma. It been what to long since I last updated. Why didn't anybody tell me? Give me a good kick in the pants and tell me to move my but? Man. Well this unintended hiatus can only be one person, or a whole lot of persons, is you. **

**Just kidding! I am so sorry you guys. I totally meant to update way sooner but well, I suck at life and even Fan fiction. And it started out as days, and then weeks and then more then half a year. So here it is. The chapter you have all been waiting for. And guess what? If the chapter seems better then the others that's because I have a beta! Isn't it exciting? And the lovely lady is none other then Tempus Rose. She has written some pretty awesome story's. All on chapter. She says its because she will forget, (look at me talking) but I thing she is afraid of commitment. But I pledge right now, to work harder on updating and with your help, we will complete this story. **

_**A another half year: **_**All righty then. Time to get back to writing. Oh. ****Better see where I left off. Don't want any continuity errors. (You all know it will happen if you don't kick me in the butt.)  
><strong>

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><p>Without waiting for any response Mycroft Holmes barged into 221 B Baker Street, or at least<br>as much as the elder Holmes could barge. He came in, umbrella over his elbow and looked  
>interestedly at his sister, shirtless and bloody, flopped over the couch with her former flat mate<br>carefully re-stitching the lacerations on her back.

"Mycroft, why are you here?" Sherlock and John gave Mycroft a look that clearly showed that  
>they did not appreciate the British government intruding on their emotional moment.<p>

"I just came over to make sure that you were fine. But I see that your blogger is handling your  
>well being." The smirk on Mycroft's face was overwhelming and Sherlock could see a blush rise<br>on John's cheeks.

"Well as you can see, Doctor Watson is doing a far better job at patching me up after the beating  
>you let me go through as you just sat there and watched." Sherlock made sure to put extra<br>emphasis on the whole doctor front. John on the other hand gave her a look of surprise.

"Wait? Are you saying that Mycroft was there when this happened?" Sherlock gave her brother a  
>look.<p>

"He was there the whole time. Bet he gave some suggestions too. The doctors he scraped up  
>when we got back into the country did an awful job. I don't what they're teaching them in<br>medical school these days, I would have an army doctor any day." Mycroft gave her a scowl.

Sherlock pushed herself to her feet and walked, still topless into the kitchen with her tea mug.  
>She purposefully ignored her dressing gown that she had left on John's chair for the sole purpose<br>of making her painfully proper brother uncomfortable.

John watched as Sherlock walked into the kitchen. He noticed that her slacks hung loose on her  
>hips. He also couldn't help but notice how her ribs seemed to be more protruding. But he also<br>noticed the muscle definition on her arms, and her torso.

"You realize that I have people who deal with those who stare at my sister for too long the wrong  
>way." John looked over at Mycroft in surprise at how calm he sounded and how calm he looked.<p>

"Wait? You do not. You could actually. Well of course you could. You're, well, you." Mycroft  
>gave John a small smile which freaked John out beyond belief.<p>

"Brother, dearest, are you attempting to frighten off my doctor again?" Sherlock walked back  
>into the room with her tea mug. She walked over to the couch and with John's help laid down<br>next to him. "Now, I know you aren't here just for a visit, so what do you want?"

"Well aren't you going to offer me some tea?" Sherlock just glared at the older man. "Very well.  
>I need you to take care of something for me. There has been some chatter going around about a<br>terrorist attack. I need you to find some evidence to support this, bring it to me, and I will deal  
>with it." John could see the skeptical look in Sherlock's eyes as he finished tying off the suture<br>he had used. He then produced a massive roll of gauze and sat Sherlock up as he wrapped it all  
>around her torso and upper back.<p>

"That simple?"

"Is it ever, my dear. From what intelligence we have been able to gather, we have a possible  
>candidate." Mycroft set a brief case on the table and opened it. He pulled out a small file and<br>slid it across the table for Sherlock who took it. "Sebastian Moran, a former black operative."  
>Sherlock by now had opened the file and John could see the shock on Sherlock's face. It didn't<br>take a genius to deduce that she knew this man. She looked up at Mycroft in disbelief.

"Impossible. I watched this man fall from a helicopter. He is very dead." She shut the file and  
>nearly slammed it back onto the table.<p>

"Well that's not what my people have been telling me. So while you do this, you can prove to  
>everyone that Moran is dead. Do I have to do any more convincing or..."<p>

"Yes, fine, I'll take the case. Just leave." Sherlock saw that Mycroft was about to protest. "I'm  
>tired." The words came out more of a growl and soon she found herself and John alone at Baker<br>Street once again, as it should be. Except for one blonde problem.

"I should be getting back home to Mary. She seemed a little shook up after this evening."  
>Sherlock suddenly felt something heavy pressing on her heart but she ignored it.<p>

"Yes, yes! Of course you do. You and Mary, of course. So, um, if you don't mind, did she, um,  
>give you an answer?" John looked startled for a moment at the detective's complete lack of<br>coherency.

"Well, she really didn't give me an answer. You sort of cut me off, remember."

"Oh, well. I'm, really quite, sorry?" That last bit came out as more of a question than a sincere  
>apology, but John nodded his head. Sherlock felt an over whelming urge to keep him with her as<br>long as she could. So, naturally, she started to babble like an idiot. As she found a clean bra that  
>was big enough to fit over the bandages she started pulling up anything and everything that she<br>had in her Mind Palace that even remotely related to matrimony. She went on for a good twenty  
>minutes about the history of marriage and the pros and cons.<p>

Sherlock stopped abruptly when she saw that even though her friend had a lot of patience, it  
>was not unlimited. "Uh, John, this Mary. She's a lucky woman if she was able to capture your<br>attention for so long. I, I know she will give a positive answer." She found he voice lowering at  
>the last part. "She's lucky to have you."<p>

John looked surprised for a moment and then he just looked quite happy. "Well, thank you  
>Sherlock. When I met Mary, I, well I just knew you would like her. She's quite clever. Might<br>even give you a run for your money in the genius department." Sherlock laughed awkwardly in  
>a way that clearly said 'Yes, and then we will watch pigs do aerial maneuvers over Buckingham<br>Palace as Mycroft successfully diets.'

"Well it hardly matters what I think. Go home John. Take that step to making Mary Morstan  
>your Mary Watson." She smiled and John smiled back. Then he turned and left. As he went,<br>Sherlock was sure he had ripped out her heart and taken it with him.

_**Sherlock!**_

Sherlock stood in her place until she heard the downstairs door slam closed. She then made her  
>way to the window and looked out to see John crossing the street. She sighed and let the drape<br>she had pulled back fall back to cover the window.

Suddenly she felt a drop of, what she assumed was water, fall down her cheek. Immediately she  
>looked up to see if there was a leak in the roof. Then it hit her. The pain in her heart. The, what<br>must have been a tear. It didn't take a genius. A sob racked her small frame. She was losing John.  
>Her John was being taken from her. She wrapped her skinny arms around her chest as more tears<br>followed the first. Just as she was sure her knees would buckle, something soft curl itself around  
>her. She looked past the unshed tears and saw her wings. They wrapped around her tightly,<br>giving off a warmth that she had grown accustom to when she had stayed in less than desirable  
>sleeping arrangements.<p>

She let her cheek brush up against the feathers on the ridge of her wings. They were far softer  
>than the rest which was saying something. She shifted her wings slightly and an idea came to<br>her. She concentrated on her wings a moment and suddenly, her favorite coat was in the place of  
>her wings. She knew what she was going to do was dangerous, but she needed to get up above<br>the clouds and just be free. Ever since she had arrived back in London, a feeling of claustrophobia had taken holed in her chest and was slowly squeezing the life out of made her way downstairs telling Mrs. Hudson she would be out for a while.

Once out on the street, she hailed a cab and told it to head for the edge of town. She ignored  
>the stare she got and focused more on the facts that presented themselves about the cab driver.<p>

She had found that after her death, Sherlock's deduction powers had not only increased, but  
>the pieces of most puzzles she went about solving became clearer than ever before. She shook<br>thoughts of all the things she had learned on her travels and focused on the cabbie.

He had three children and a wife with one, no, two mistresses. He thought that he was getting  
>away with it but from the state of his clothes and the remains of his dinner, all of the women<br>in his life had found out about the affairs and were not happy. 'Well, if Lestrade brings up the  
>violent murder of a London cabbie at least I will have a fairly good place to start.'<p>

It took longer than she had wanted, but she finally ended up at the outskirts of London. In the  
>very small, but very deserted country that lay between London and the next city. She was glad<br>that she had the thought to bring some money. As her coat was not truly a coat, she had no  
>money. But as she was leaving she grabbed a wad of cash which was enough to pay for the trip.<br>Or at least trick the man long enough for him to leave without questions.

Once the man had left, (not without offering to stay and give her a lift back) she walked for a  
>while through the fields until she reached an area where she could see the stars. Barely, but it<br>was enough. She needed to be able to navigate, and the starless nights of London did nothing for  
>that. She let her wings unfold and she tested the wind. A sudden cold hit her and she realized she<br>was still in her bra and slacks.

'Well. We can't all remember clothing, now can we?' She sighed and took a deep breath as he  
>giant wings swooped up and then came crashing down, sending her high into the air. She beat<br>her wings until she found herself high above the clouds. She then turned over onto her back and  
>let herself glide for a moment as the cool air and clean air clear her head. She felt the slight<br>accumulation of water on her back and saw she had drifted into some clouds. She turned over  
>and let her wings close into her sides as she dove straight down. After a moment she opened her<br>wings which stopped her decent. She pushed with her powerful wings up high again and she  
>flew her way back to London.<p>

Even after only a few minutes, the wind chill was getting to her and she was glad she was  
>heading back to her flat. Suddenly a scream ripped through the air which caused Sherlock to stop<br>mid flight and straightened. She looked around below her. She focused her mind on the white  
>noise around her and looked for fear. Fear, she had found, had a particular color. It was a sort of<br>red and purple. After a moment she found what she was looking for. She dove down to the spot  
>of the fear ready for a conflict.<p>

_**Sherlock!**_

Amanda Myers was walking home from her job as manager of one of the local shops. She really  
>hated walking home alone. She had heard some of the scary stories and had even met some<br>people at her work that had been through some pretty awful things. But she had missed her bus  
>and taxis were far too expensive, so there she was walking home.<p>

As she passed an ally suddenly something come out and grabbed her and soon she found herself  
>up against the ally wall. Her bag was grabbed out of her hand and an arm was being pressed up<br>against her throat. She tried to reach up and push arm, and by extension the man, away.

"Not so fast sweetheart. I need you to do something for me." Amanda breathed out a scarred  
>breath as the man leaned in and licked her cheek. She tried to move her head but that just caused<br>the man to laugh. "This one has spirit."

"Just shut up and hold her while I find anything valuable." The man who held her just glared at  
>his partner.<p>

"As you can tell, my partner isn't much into, having fun." He leaned in and kissed her. As he  
>kissed her, Amanda bit his lip. The man pulled back and with his free hand slapped her. She<br>cried out slightly. "You're gonna pay for that. Now," The man leaned forward and whispered  
>into her ear. "Scream." He dragged his hand down her hip and pushed down the fabric on her<br>pants. The reaction was instantaneous as a scream ripped through her body. Suddenly a hand  
>covered her mouth cutting the scream short.<p>

"What the hell man. You'll bring all the bloody police force down on this ally. Now just..." A  
>strong breeze blew down the alley. What Amanda realized was that the wind was coming from<br>the back of the ally not the front. And apparently, it wasn't just her imagination.

"What the? Who's there?" Amanda was glad that some else felt the wind. She heard something  
>ruffle and it sounded like some birds wings settling that you'd see on the BBC. But instead of<br>barely noticeable, it sounded like it would have to have come from some huge bird. Suddenly a  
>tall woman in a long coat came out of the shadows.<p>

"Just me." A cruel smile came onto the woman's face. What Amanda noticed was the strange  
>woman's angelic features. She had a pleasant to look at face with sharp cheek bones. She was tall<br>with long short curly black hair that with the small amount of light coming from a light in the  
>ally, it gave her the look of having a halo. Thinking of it, Amanda didn't know why she<br>immediately jumped to angelic for a description of the woman. Might have just been the  
>situation and the luck of this woman finding her way down to this ally.<p>

"Well angel, looks like you arrived just in time for our party." The man that held her pulled out a  
>knife and pointed it at this strange woman.<p>

"Well then. Send off this woman with her things and then maybe the party will pick up."The  
>man that was holding her licked his lips and a smirk crossed the other woman's face. Suddenly,<p>

Amanda found herself being pushed to the ground. The man that only a moment ago had been  
>holding her grabbed her bag from his partner and threw it at her. She grabbed it and staggered to<br>her feet.

"What the hell man. We ain't got any more leverage." The other man said to his partener.

"'Any more' leverage. And you won't need it after I'm done with you." The woman said this in a  
>vaguely seductive voice, but the underlying threat was still there. "I think it would be better if<br>you left for your home now. You'll be safe." Amanda Turned and ran from the ally and ran all  
>the way back to her building, glad to be inside the confines of her flat.<p>

_**Sherlock!**_

Amanda sat in her home the next day. After telling the story of the night before to her boss over  
>the phone, he gave her the day off to gather herself. So there she sat, watching telly when the<br>news came on. The running headline was that two petty criminals said that the night before they  
>had been attacked by an angel. They hadn't known what it was until it had stalked forward and<br>opened its wings.

Amanda sat forward at this. She recognized the men from yesterday. Apparently they were both  
>going to undergo some tests. Amanda couldn't help but laugh. She really didn't care if it was an<br>angel or just some drug induced hallucination, but she was glad that woman had shown up. She  
>smiled again as the man who had been holding her was being taken to a police car after waiting,<br>apparently, the whole night for the police to show up. He was screaming about wings and how it  
>was a sign of the end. She also noticed the bruise that bloomed across his cheek.<br>Amanda stood and went to the kitchen with a smile on her face. She thanked any deity for  
>sending her help. She heated water for a cup of tea, and then grabbed her budgeting papers and<br>started working on making a small taxi fund for any time she missed her bus.

_**Sherlock!**_

_They threw punches and landed kicks. Sherlock was glad she had gotten around to learning to _  
><em>fight properly and being able to gain the strength she needed to, hopefully, win this fight. Moran <em>  
><em>had led them up to the roof of a building to give her a piece of his mind. Apparently he didn't like <em>  
><em>that Moriarty was dead and so if he was dead and she wasn't, he would quickly fix that.<em>

_Moran punched her right in the nose which stunned her for a moment to long which gave Moran _  
><em>the time to throw her over the edge of the roof. It took Sherlock a moment to open her wings and <em>  
><em>when she did she went flying up just as Moran looked down over the roof to admire his work. <em>  
><em>She grabbed him by the shoulders and went high up into the air. Moran was too shocked by what <em>  
><em>was happening.<em>

_"What the hell."_

_"Like I told you, I died." She smiled a cruel smile as Moran audibly gasped. It didn't take a _  
><em>genius to jump to absurd conclusions, though a second later his knife found its way into her <em>  
><em>shoulder which caused her to let go of Moran. Sherlock watched passively as the man fell. She <em>  
><em>grabbed her shoulder and removed the offending weapon. Behind her she heard the sound of a <em>  
><em>helicopter landing. Man rushed out and grabbed the body. Sherlock suddenly felt exhausted and <em>  
><em>flew down to a nearby tree that was high up enough to not be in danger of a ground attack and <em>  
><em>with enough cover to provide shelter. She landed and let her wings wrap around her and provide <em>  
><em>warmth as the sun started to rise off in the distance.<em>

Sherlock woke with a start. The memory of that night faded from her mind as she scrubbed her  
>face. She cursed herself for not checking to see if he died. It was always possible, just highly<br>unlikely. She got up and looked outside. It was still dark and she really wanted to play her violin.  
>Sherlock made her way out to the front room. She was glad that the room really hadn't been<br>changed since she left. She grabbed the case from its usual place and pulled out her most  
>treasured item. She tuned it and prepped her bow. She played a few cords and a note or two fell<br>flat. Sherlock realized in that moment that it had been far too long since she last played her violin  
>last. The calluses on her fingers had moved from her finger tips to her palms. It would be a little<br>while before she comfortably played it again.

But with her time away, she had written a lot of songs that she wanted to get out on paper, or at  
>least see if they sounded good. She played some more notes until they sounded right. Then she<br>started to play and perfect some of the songs she had thought up during her many stays in lonely,  
>confined places.<p>

It took some time, but soon, completely out of nowhere the thought that everything would soon  
>go back to normal rushed through her head. She smiled and let the melodies wash over her.<br>'When did I get so, so, what would John call it, sentimental?" She didn't care what the word was  
>she just knew that she was being it. She played for about another half hour before Mrs. Hudson<br>burst into the room with sleep still in her eyes as she glared at Sherlock.

"Sherlock, I'm glad you're back dear, but you bringing your sleep habits with you and I will  
>not stand for it." Sherlock nodded her head and apologized sending Mrs. Hudson back to her<br>room. Once Sherlock was sure that the other woman was all the way down the stairs she burst  
>out laughing. She had missed Mrs. Hudson in her time away. How strange she could be. How<br>mothering she could be, even when she said she wasn't. Sherlock placed her violin back in its  
>case and went to the kitchen to use the last hours of darkness to work on some experiments. In<br>the morning she would start work on the case Mycroft gave her. But that was hours away and  
>now it was time to do what she wanted. Sherlock had a hunch that she wasn't going to be getting<br>much alone time so she might as well do what she wanted now, before the circus began.

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><p><strong>WAIT! Before you go, I got something to say. So if you aren't reading A Study in Avengers, then you wont know that this story has won the Loki Holmes story lottery! So this story and the previously announced I will still be working on them Wow. That was chopy. Ayways. I want to finish these two storys before I continue my others so that hopefully will help the updates. Once I finish with either of the story's I will continue another. <strong>

**If you want one of my other story's to continue after I finish either of these you could drop a review, of I you just want to say hi, (and smack my for taking so long) go forth and review. Till the next.**

**P.S. Sorry if the story set up looks funny. My beta sent it to me and its looks funny in my docs. If it looks fine, cool. If not, sorry.**


	6. And so it begins

**Hey guys. Long time since ever. So here is a new chapter. (Finafrikenly.) This story has just rebelled against me. So I am sorry and I have implemented a new plan that should hopefully turn out chapters faster. This plan is for there to be shorter chapters. I don't know why, but when I write, I try to draw it out or put as much stuff as I can into one chapter so that you have a mega huge chapter. I guess it was better for when I go long periods of time without writing, so that you have a lot to read on. Anyways. That is most likely going to stop. I might still crank out a long chapter every now and then. But not usually. And this is going to go for the two storys I am working on right now. So Ya! Hopefully progress. Anyways. I hope you enjoy. Oh, and some of the bad grammar in here and bad spelling is on purpose. And any other mistakes are all on me. **

**P.S. Review and tell me if I am being subtle enough with this rift in one of the relationships.**

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><p>Sherlock ran down the ally way. It was one of those moments that she wondered if anyone else in the world would ever be doing this. This thought was especially prominent as she fallowed the man down a man hole and was quite conscious of all of the sewer wast that was attaching itself to her shoes. She picked up her pace as the man she was fallowing rounded a corner.<p>

As she rounded the corner the man grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. She just about punched him but restrained from hitting her contact. She stayed quiet for a moment as she waited for the man to explain why she was there. But only for a moment.

"Rat. What do you want? You know how I feel about meetings like this." Rat looked into her eyes and she looked back seeing the fear inside of her informants eyes. "Raymond? What is it?"

"Well Miss. 'Olmes. I 'eard that you was back from the dead and I had to make sure it ain't no lie. You know 'ow people can talk." Sherlock gave the man a look. "Wasn't a lie. Sorry Miss."

"I do in fact know how people can talk. But is that all because you could have just left a note at the drop box." He started to shake his head.

"No Miss 'Olmes. You see. I uh, I've been 'earing things. Whispers if you would. And, well, you know I've never been one to gossip, but w'en you 'ear these sort of 'ings, you gotta tell um to the boss lady. 'Ich 'appens to be you." At Sherlock's impatiant loook the Irregular continued. "'Ell. I've 'eard that most of Morriarties gang, 'as been disappearin, into thing air." Sherlock Rolled her eyes. This really wasn't anything new. She had been the one disappearing Moriarties men. Or at least she thought that she was the one who was doing this, but then he said some names that she hadn't even heard of. She thought it was strange that they would be just disappearing, and knew that it wasn't a coincidence that she had returned and they were disappearing.

At the irregulars look, she reached into her pocket and pulled out some money and handed it to the man. "If I find out that this went to the wrong people, you will be immediately out of my employ." He nodded his head in understanding. He bowed in reverence a couple of times as he stuffed the money in his pockets and then ran off. Sherlock shook her head. That had been such a wast of time. Well, mostly a wast of time.

She turned back towards the road and made her way to the side walk to look for a cab. One had dropped her off a few streets down and she doubted it would still be there. As Sherlock stood waiting, she thought about what she would need to do once she got back to her flat. She needed to have her irregulars start a look out. She also needed to figure out how she was going to get John to be her friend again. Or at the least forgive her. She sighed and looked around the deserted London street. It was five in the morning. There wouldn't be many free roaming cabs out right now and once she thought about it, she decided that she would be better suited to a run. Baker St. was only twenty minuets away by cab.

"So not to far on foot." She shook her head. Sherlock new that talking to herself was not good. A bit not good if you would. She smiled to herself as she started running, remembering when John had said the same thing to her.

**Sherlock!**

John stood in front of the mirror with white shaving cream on his face. Marry was sitting up in there bed reading a book. He was still a bit frazzled after the revelations of the previous night, and all of the feelings that it brought about inside of him. John held up his razor and looked at it. He had grown the beard as a way to show that he had moved on. Well, that is at least what he thought. Really it was to better hide the sadness that seemed to have made a permanent home on his face.

"Her movements were so silent. So furtive, she reminded me of a trained bloodhound picking out a scent." John heard the strange words his girlfriend had just said. He remembered them, sort of. And they sounded jealous coming out of her mouth, though she tried to hide it.

"What did you say?"

"I couldn't help thinking what an amazing criminal she'd make if he turned her talents against the law." John walked out of the bathroom to look at his girlfriend. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Don't read that." She looked at him and rolled her eyes.

"The famous blog. Finally. I thought I would never get around to this." She smiled wickedly up at him.

"Come on. That's-"

"Ancient history? Ya. I know. But its not. Its not because she's back. She is here and alive and, I don't know how I feel about that." She sighed and looked up at him. "What are you doing?" She gave him a sad smile.

"Having a wash."

"I can't believe your shaving it off." John failed to notice the annoyed sound in her voice.

"You hated it."

"Sherlock hated it."

"Apparently everyone hated it."

"Are you going to see her." John noticed that she seemed a bit jealous of his best friend.

"No. I'm going to work. Why? Is that a problem for you? Are you jealous of a dead woman?" He laughed playfully, but stopped when he saw that she wasn't taking his teasing well.

"Technically not dead anymore. And ya. I am a bit jealous. I mean she comes back into your life out of no where, and suddenly you are making changes that you have held fast to, since her death, and now you are changing the way you look." She sighed and John looked down at the ground. He walked back into the bathroom and lifted the razor up to his lip. He thought back to his university days and what one of his old buddies had said to him once.

"You never. Never, under any circumstance, let you ex and current meet. Sparks fly and not in a good way."


	7. Time Till Arrival:

**Guys. Look. A prompt update. I'm so excited. And I just can't hide it. :) Are you all proud of me? Because I am. I told you the shorter chapters would help. And you all doubted me. Kidding. You had all the rights. So this is a very heavy chapter and I hope you all like it. A lot of things happen and it is going to get a bit intense. I am also veering from cannon a little so things have started becoming very different from the episode near the end. Anyways. Hope you like it and tell me what you think and if I have done something wrong. I need to fix things. And if you want to see something, let me know. I want you guys to have input into this story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to the BBC. I am also not getting paid. So there.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>John had had an awful day at work. He had been paranoid that Sherlock was going to come around and try to get him to forgive her, which, by the way, was never happening. He had freaked out a lot of patients during this paranoia. One he had to apologize profusely to for yanking on his beard and hair, and Sarah had to get him to sign a legal, paper, thing. John had stopped listening after the patient had tried selling Sarah some of his pornography.<p>

He realized then that he couldn't keep doing this. He needed to clear the air with Sherlock and it wasn't going to happen if he was hiding from her. And he realized that she wouldn't be the one to come to him. So after his shift, and being chewed out by his boss, he made his way over to Baker St. He walked up to the door and knocked. When no one answered he knocked again. After still no answer he backed up to the sidewalk to look up at the window.

Some jerk bumped into him and didn't even say anything. John let him know his distaste. After being shoved by that jerk, he checked for his wallet and phone. Finding them he sighed, fed up and tired of all this drama. He looked back up at the window one last time before turning for home. Just as he started walking his arms were grabbed by two people. He started struggling when he felt something sharp enter his neck. After that everything started getting fuzzy and blackness started invading his vision and soon enough everything was dark.

_**Sherlock!**_

Sherlock was sitting in her chair eating fish and chips. She didn't often indulge, but Molly had been with her today, and Sherlock realized that if she too ate the grease dripping food the other woman wouldn't feel bad for eating it. Of course she had been right and the other woman had been far more eager to eat the unhealthy food. She was also eating the food because she had had a pretty awful day trying to adjust without John.

She was used to John being there to talk to, call her off and even without him there, he would still yell at her in her head. Molly had tried to help, but with the wedding coming, she was a bit distracted. This whole return just annoyed her. When she had left all the people in her life had been quite single, but now that she was back, they were all engaged. Even Lestrade's marriage had gotten better. She wondered for a second if maybe it had something to do with her. Well, it was only a passing thought as a moment later, her door bell was ringing and someone urgent was coming into the flat.

_**Sherlock!**_

Mary hated Sherlock. Not because of anything she had done. Well, done yet. The second John had recognized her, Mary had know it was over. It had taken a full year to get John over the memory of this woman, and now, she had to compete the woman herself. And soon enough, she would know about Mary's past. She could already see the wheels slowly turning in the Detectives head and that would mean bad new for her relationship with John.

John was the first man who had accepted her and her interests. Of course she hadn't right out said about her past in espionage, but she expressed interest in guns and things of that nature. John, the dear that he was, had pulled strings to get her and him into a gun range. It had been exhilarating to shoot a gun again, and John had complimented her on her fast learning. It was cute, even though she could have fired anyone of those guns with deadly accuracy.

And now she was going to lose him to the sociopath. And just to make things worse, now she needed the other woman. She had just received a text from who she assumed was John, but it was someone who had his phone. She had rushed over to 221B Baker St. to get Sherlock's help. The other woman took a moment to read the text and Mary lent her help.

"Its a skip code." Sherlock raised her eyebrow at the other woman. How had she known that? Filing this for later, she took another look at the text.

_Save souls now!  
>John or James Watson?<em>

"Save John Watson. Dam it." Sherlock dropped her food to the floor and ran down the flat steps, phone still in hand.

"Where are you going? How can I help?" Mary let worry seep into her voice, but also kept her voice professional. Sherlock grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around her neck.

"You can get some medical supplies ready." With that, Sherlock ran out of the door. Mary took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to let her emotions run wild right now.

Once Sherlock was out of the flat the phone in her hand buzzed. She looked down at it reading the text. She immediately faded out the unimportant word to shorten the long text of 'Saint or Sinner? James or John? The more is Less?' to 'Saint James. The Less.' She growled angrily, already having calculated the time it would take. 20 minuet by cab. She paced for a moment, angry at how long it would take. It crossed her mind to fly, but that would be far to risky and if she was caught, she doubted she would make it to John.

That's when she heard it. A motorcycle coming up the street. She smiled to herself. She reached into her pocket and fished out Sally Donovan's Police ID. She walked right into the street and stuck her hand out stopping the motorcycle in its tracks.

"Police. Commandeering your ride."

**Time Till Arrival: 10 minuets**

Sherlock was speeding down the roads when the text alert went off on Mary's phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and gave it a quick glance.

_Getting warmer Miss Holmes  
>You have about ten minutes<em>

She continued on feeling more and more stressed. Everything was going too slow. She realized that she should have just flown. Hang the consequences.

**Time Till Arrival: 8 minuets**

John slowly started to wake up. He was groggy at first and then things started to become clearer as his mind started to function. As he looked around, he was in a dark place. He tried moving his head, but his body wouldn't budge. His ears started to slowly stop ringing and all around him he heard noises. It was loud and jarring to his sensitive body. He looked around with his eyes and saw lights flying by. He groaned and continued to try and move, with little results.

**Time Till Arrival: 5 minuets**

Sherlock had been mad for a moment when she had run into a police blockade. She looked to the side and saw an ally. After running thru the road map in her head, and she realized it would shave three minuets off her time. She went down the ally and came across some stairs. She revved up her engine forcing the machine to go fast, making it so that when she went flying into the air. She landed with a jolt and struggled to stay on the bike.

She continued on the rest of the time. She arrived at the area and rode around for a minuet. She got off the bike and started to run around the area looking for John. She felt a lump form in her throat when she couldn't find him. She felt her heart clenching with worry. It had been eight minuets since the last text. Whatever was going to happen, it had just started.

**Time Till Arrival: 0 minuets**

John's brain was still a bit fuzzy around the edges, but one thing he did know was that he was moving. He had been worried a moment ago that he was to late to free himself, but now he realized that whatever was going to happen to him, wasn't going to happen on the road, which greatly increased his chance of survival. That is until the vehicle he was in stopped.

John heard a car door open and close and footsteps move around to where he was. His body still couldn't move but after a small test, he found he could still talk. So when the boot door opened, he started yelling as loud as he could. He was immediately silenced by a fist to the face.

* * *

><p>Sherlock was passed being sad and worried. She was angry. She had to calm herself so as not to go off. She felt a buzz in her pocket and pulled out the phone. She saw the private number and immediately answered.<p>

"Who is?"

"You made great time, Miss Holmes."

"Where is John? What have you done to him?" Sherlock felt her blood boiling.

"Oh he is here. With me. Well. My men. And they are taking him out for a good time. And don't worry Miss Holmes. They will take great care of your little dog." Sherlock felt a growl escape her lips. "Now, now Miss Holmes. Lets not be feral. If you like, you could join us in the fun." Before Sherlock could answer she was tackled to the ground. She yelled out in anger as she tried to fight them off, but they had her at a disadvantage as they were on top of her. As she struggled to fight she felt something pierce her neck. She felt her vision go fuzzy, which confirmed her suspicions. Before she blacked out she heard the person on the phone say something.

"Be seeing you soon Miss Holmes. So long as you make it."


	8. The Reveal

**I am the worst. I am so sorry. I can't believe I have left this for so long. I hate myself. I really hate myself. I can't believe I have left this for so long. And I can't say that I will be updating on even a semblance of a schedule. Things have been a bit hectic, but they should be getting better. I hope. SO here it is. The chapter you have been waiting for. So please enjoy and tell me what you think.**

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><p>Sherlock woke to loud noises and darkness. It took her a moment to get her head back together and cleared out the cotton balls that had made a home in her head. She realized that she couldn't move as much as she would like. After testing her hands and legs, she felt the harsh rub of the ropes against her skin.<p>

She quickly ran thru her options and found them limited. And even more so when after struggling around for a moment, she found that she wasn't alone. Laying beside her was the one person she didn't want to see in this situation. John was laying unconscious bound and gauged. He seemed to be trying to wake up, but with how many drugs Sherlock assumed was in his system, along with the lovely shiner above his eye.

She sighed heavily. Any options she might have had, were completely gone after seeing John laying beside her. Her ears seemed to clear up after that, and she was able to distinguish the noises of the city from the loud thunderous crowd that seemed to be gathered all around her and John. She called out, but her thought was raw, for some reason so it came out as more of a squeak and less the yell she was going for.

She had just decided to wait a moment more, humming to try and warm up her voice, when she saw lights approach. It suddenly clicked in here brain where they were. Under a Guy Fox bonfire. She felt her heart beat quicken and a cold sweat trail down her back.

John was trying to wake up and had started calling out. Or trying to. It was more screams, mixed in with gargles. She joined him and could hear some small voice saying Guy Fox didn't like what they were doing. Like that was going to help. Sherlock found her voice after a couple of tries and made use of it by screaming. John seemed to finally realize that someone else was there.

"Sh-Sherlock? What's happening?" Sherlock really didn't want to tell her best friend that they were both about to be burned alive. She suddenly felt the heat of flames being placed on the wood above them. A sudden thought passed thru her mind. She knew it was a very bad idea, but as ash started to fall down around them, she really didn't see any other choice at the moment. And besides, she was planning on telling him sometime soon.

With one last thought, Sherlock sent caution to the wind. She rolled back onto her shoulder blades and worked her hands around her front. She crawled over to John who was giving her a confused look. Smoke started to fill the small space along with a suffocating heat. Or that might just be the smoak. John was already coughing as she moved to straddle him.

"Sherlock. … What are,... are you doing?" Sherlock just hushed her friend as she concentrated on opening her wings.

"You focus on breathing. I'll work on getting us out of here." As her wings opened, she used the hands to take the handkerchief that was now around Johns neck, and moved it to cover his mouth and nose. John seemed to be losing consciousness, but that didn't stop his eyes from widening as Sherlock's wings came to rest around them both, covering them and protecting them from the falling debris.

"What the?" Sherlock couldn't help but laugh a little. Leave it to John to be more concerned about her wings and not the burning structure coming down around there ears.

"You have a gift for stating the obvious." She paused trying to think of what to do. She felt smoak starting to fill her lungs and her eyes were stinging. No one was coming for them. There was some much adrenaline running thru her system. After a bit of a struggle, she got her hands out of her bounds and wrapped her arms around John. "Wrap your arms around my neck." In there current position, John couldn't help but look up at Sherlock's eyes.

"What are you going to do?" Sherlock just smiled. A smile that John knew well. This was a smile that usually ended up with John in pain. He just shook his head.

"Just duck your head and we will be out of here soon." John pulled his eyes away from Sherlock's and ducked his head. He rested his forehead against her collar bone. It was at that moment that he realized she didn't actually have a top on. Just her black lace bra. He closed his eyes immediately.

Sherlock took a deep breath. She had barely taken off from the field. She spread her wings as far as she could and then pushed even further pushing away the wood. When she had the room she was going to need she started moving her wings.

She pushed and worked her wings. Hot debris started falling around her but she really couldn't stop. That's when she felt it. Lift. She felt her body being lifted and held onto John tighter. She moved her feet so that she could push off of the ground. She shot up thru the rubble and went soaring into the sky. She focused on flying, but when she heard John cry out she couldn't help but look down at him.

His head was swiveling around looking at everything. Sherlock promised herself that after everything was explained, she was going to take John flying. She made her way towards 221B Baker St. She landed in back and let John go. He lifted his arms and let Sherlock untie her feet. John couldn't help but watch in aw as Sherlock's wings turned into her black Belstaff coat.

"How did you?"

"Its just what they do. Now should we head upstairs or stay out here all night?"


End file.
